


Moonlighting

by YlvaUllsdotter



Series: Ends And Means [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 9 squares 3 fics challenge, Canon language, Case Fic, Other, Tumblr, Tumblr Challenge, canon violence, mention of canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 19:05:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13981401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YlvaUllsdotter/pseuds/YlvaUllsdotter
Summary: Sam and Dean decide to check out the address on the note they found. They catch up to Ketch. There are werewolves.





	Moonlighting

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s my entry for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing’s 9 squares for 3 fics challenge on Tumblr. I decided to go for a three-part series, each part covering three separate squares. There are no pairings in any of the fics as this is a three-part case-fic. My first case-fic in fact. It takes place after 13.13 Devil’s Bargain.
> 
> The series is called Ends And Means. This is part 2.
> 
> As always, I apologize for nothing.

_“Let’s see what this is then.” He was already ripping the envelope open, pulling out a single sheet of paper. Reading the writing, Dean frowned. “Well, I’ll be damned. Check it out.” He thrust the paper at Sam._

_Ketch_

_Motel 6_

_1561 6th St, Wells, NV_

* * *

 

Sam’s jaw clenched when he saw Ketch’s name. On top of all the other crap that limey bastard had pulled on the brothers, and Mary, Sam also knew that he was the one that killed Eileen, using a hellhound borrowed from Crowley. He wanted the man dead, in the worst way.

“Let’s go.” Sam ground out through clenched teeth, already heading back toward the Impala.

Dean followed him silently. They both got in the car, Dean starting her up while Sam put the address into his GPS to find the best route there.

“We can either continue the way we were going, through the state park, or we can go back and head down I-80”, Sam told Dean after a moment. “Either way, we gotta stick to I-80 all the way there.”

“Well, what the hell, let’s take the scenic route for once.” Dean tried to sound cheerful to offset Sam’s quiet determined rage, but the car was soon so filled with tense silence it could have been cut with a knife.

“Ok, dude, I can’t take it anymore. Talk to me.” Dean almost found his little brother scary when he got like this.

“Talk about what, Dean?” Sam was so tense, the words came out much harsher than he had intended. “About how this bastard had our mom brainwashed? Or how he’s tried to kill us both repeatedly? Or how he actually did kill...Eileen?” His voice hitched as he said her name. It had been a year, more, and it still hurt like a fresh wound. “He’s a monster, Dean.” Sam turned to watch the scenery fly by outside. “And we kill monsters.”

At a loss for words, Dean turned the radio on to offset the heavy silence and tried to lose himself in the pleasure of driving his Baby.

They stopped a couple of times on the way, making a seven-hour-drive into a little over eight hours. It was early evening when they arrived, the sun hanging on the horizon like a giant orange. At their last stop, an hour or so outside of Wells, they had changed into their fed suits, and now they entered the motel office badges in hand. The clerk was a young man who bore an almost uncanny resemblance to Shaggy from Scooby-Doo. When Dean spotted a Great Dane lounging in the small room off the front desk he almost cracked a smile. The clerk’s name was Dale, according to his name tag, and he spent all of half a second checking their badges before giving a somewhat absent grin.

“How can I help you, agents?”

Dean pulled up an old photo of Ketch on his phone and held it out for the clerk.

“Recognize this man?”

“Uhm…” Dale squinted confusedly at the image. “He looks a little like the guy in room 22 if he had a beard...and glasses…”

Dean decided to forego asking for a name, assuming that Ketch would have used an alias.

“Got a key?”

“Yeah, sure.” Dale pulled a set of keys from a drawer beneath the counter and started to come around, presumably to come with them to unlock the door. Dean snatched the keys from his hand.

“Thanks. We’ll take it from here, Dale. Stay here, this guy is armed and dangerous. Wouldn’t want you to get hurt. Just in case. You understand.”

Dale’s eyes widened with a mix of fear and surprise and he nodded. “Yeah, sure man, no problem.” He indicated the skeleton key on the keyring before sitting back down.

Dean led the way along the row of scuffed doors to no doubt dingy motel rooms until they got to the one marked ‘22’. Sam checked the window, but the curtains were drawn. He shook his head to indicate there was nothing to see. Dean inserted the key as quietly as he could, still feeling like it made enough noise to wake the whole neighborhood. Both of them readying their guns, they threw the door open and barged in, Dean in the lead. They scanned the room with experienced eyes, looking for threats, Ketch in particular. Sam headed in to check the bathroom and the closet but found nothing but neatly hung suits and fancy toiletries.

“He’s not here.”

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.” Dean scoffed.

“Let’s see if he left any clues. I doubt he’d leave his stuff behind if he took off, but you never know. The Brits do love their comforts.”

Sam nodded and started looking through the papers on the desk, while Dean checked the bedside table.

“Hey, check this out.” Sam picked up the motel notepad.

“Whatcha got?” Dean came over to see what Sam had found.

“Looks like coordinates to me.” Sam clarified as he handed the notepad over and pulled out his phone.

“Yeah, definitely. Where though?”

“If it is coordinates, they point to a farm just outside of town.”

“Well, it’s better than nothing. Let’s go see what we can see.”

Any other case, Sam might have objected that it was almost dark and they should wait until morning, but he was too intent on catching up to Ketch and putting a bullet in his head. They drove in silence, following the directions from Sam’s GPS. Turning down a dirt road, they finally spotted the farm itself.

“It looks abandoned, dude,” Dean commented.

“Doesn’t mean it is,” Sam replied. Dean nodded, having first-hand experience with monsters who liked to take up residence in abandoned houses and barns.

Dean pulled the car to a stop before they reached the buildings themselves, not wanting to make too much noise. The brothers armed up out of the arsenal in the trunk and continued on foot, angling their path to take them around the rundown buildings to check out the area before barging in.

A hiss from Dean had Sam moving closer to him. Dean pointed silently at the ground under some bushes and Sam stepped closer, the ambient light revealing an almost completely eaten corpse. In the low light, they were unable to tell what it might have been once, but if it had been an animal, it had to have been a small deer at least. Although they both knew it was far more likely it was a person.

On edge now, they moved even more carefully. With hand signals, Dean sent Sam to check out what had once been the house, while he went towards the barn. As he came closer, Dean could hear muffled voices coming from the barn and was quietly pleased about the deteriorated state of the building, letting him look in through any number of cracks between the planks that made up the walls. Even so, he found himself moving almost completely around the structure before he found a spot where he could fully take in the scene inside.

Ketch was there, but he was clearly at a disadvantage. Dean could see a gun on the floor, but far enough from the Brit that he would not be able to reach it easily. Three large men faced him, none of them with a weapon, but with a definite air of menace. And the way Ketch was in a defensive position told Dean that these men were probably some kind of monster.

Dean jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, only to find it was just Sam. He motioned for Sam to find a crack and take a look while he went back to watching. Just then, a growl sounded from inside the barn, and all three men sprouted claws.

Werewolves.

Sam and Dean exchanged a look that spoke volumes. It was a dilemma. They could let the werewolves take Ketch out, but then how could they be sure the monsters would succeed. Besides, Sam wanted to be the one to put a bullet in Ketch’s head, then burn his body and scatter the ashes just for good measure. All of this passed between the brothers in moments, they nodded to each other, and made a beeline for the nearest entrance to the barn.

The surprised look on the werewolves’ faces when the Winchesters stormed in gave Dean a sense of satisfaction. He only let himself bask in the feeling for half a second though, before he was all business. Two of the monsters went down as Sam and Dean entered, each shot through the heart with a silver bullet. The third immediately launched himself at Ketch, snarling. The man put up a good fight, but with no weapon, he was at a decided disadvantage against claws and fangs. When he managed to push the werewolf away for more than a second, Sam put a bullet through it. It slumped over the smaller man, effectively trapping Ketch under it.

Dean let Sam be the one to check on Ketch, while he went up to each of the monsters to make sure they were really dead. When he turned back, Ketch, or Sam, or maybe both of them, had managed to drag the werewolf off of the Brit, who was apparently mostly unharmed. Shame. Sam had his gun pointed at Ketch’s head and Dean was surprised he had refrained from pulling the trigger, considering the smug smirk on Ketch’s face.

“So. Arthur.” Dean emphasized the name. “Looks like we saved your ass. Again.”

“Yes, well, it was your turn, I should think.”

Dean seethed inwardly at the accent but managed to keep his expression calm.

“Hmm. So what were you doing here, Ketch? Making deals with monsters again?”

“I really don’t see how that is any of your business.”

Dean could tell the other man was stalling, and he could also see it was grating on Sam to hold back from shooting the smug bastard in the face.

“Oh but I think it is. See, my brother here wants to shoot you in the face. Except for this time, we’ll make sure you’re all the way dead. Not sure how long he can restrain himself.” Dean went on in a conversational tone. “Personally, I don’t really care if he does. I also want you dead. Really though, I would just like to know what you're up to. Because with you, it’s never good.”

“Ah, so you’re the proverbial cat then, Dean? We all know what happened to it, don’t we?”

“Not bothered. Death and I are pals, you see. She has a thing for me.” Dean forced a smile. “So, are you gonna satisfy my curiosity, or should I just let Sam do his thing?”

"I was hunting. Tracked one of these through three states. Finally caught up with him. I guess he picked up reinforcements along the way. My bad.”

Dean was starting to get a niggling feeling that something was up, mostly because Ketch was Ketch. He shrugged and turned to Sam.

“Do your thing, Sam. This asshat isn’t gonna tell us anything. Besides, anything he does tell us we can’t trust, ‘cause he lies as easily as he breathes.”

Sam’s jaw clenched so hard Dean was afraid he might crack a tooth, and then he closed his eyes to take a breath. That was the moment Ketch had apparently been waiting for. Dean only caught a movement from the corner of his eye, then there was a loud bang like someone shot off a rifle in his ear and the large space quickly filled with thick yellow smoke that smelled like the ass end of hell.

“Sam!” Dean groped through the smoke toward where he had last seen his brother. “Sammy!” The ringing in his ears drowned out any other sounds, even his own coughs. He tripped over something soft and cursed loudly. Groping along the body, he felt short hair and a beard. Not Sammy. A sudden grip on his sleeve had him swinging toward whoever it was. Luckily he failed to connect.

“Dean! It’s me! Come on!” Sam was shouting, probably trying to hear his own voice over the ringing in his own head. He dragged Dean along, both of them coughing and stumbling through the smoke until they made it outside. Moving off to the side, both of them drew in deep breaths of the fresh night air, all the while scanning their surroundings for Ketch.

Sam was the one who saw it first, drawing Dean’s attention to it. A motorcycle racing away from the farm along the dirt road. They both swore and took off at a run toward the Impala, but Ketch had too much of a head start. By the time they reached the highway, there was no sign of him in either direction.

“Maybe he left something else at the motel?” Dean suggested, his hearing starting to return to normal.

“Yeah. Maybe.” Sam bit off his words.

They drove back to the motel in silence, Sam seething, and Dean angry that Ketch had got away. Dale happily let them back into the room and this time they felt no need to hide their search. They ripped suits apart, checking for hidden clues inside the lining. Bags, clothes, everything got taken apart into their constituent parts. Finally, as Dean shook what was left of Ketch’s bag, a piece of paper fluttered to the floor. Grabbing it, Dean turned it over.

“Uhm, Sam? I think this is something.” He held out the slip of paper. Sam took it and examined it, his eyes narrowing. It only had four words on it, two of which appeared to be a signature.

 

_Lawrence, KS_

_Sister Jo_


End file.
